


Loosen Up Your Buttons

by Lywinis



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossdressing Kink, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6892597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a fantasy. After dating Phil for a little while, he's still nervous to tell him about it. But Phil shows Steve that if it's something he wants, Phil will give it to him -- he's just gotta trust him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loosen Up Your Buttons

Steve was nervous, his heart hammering in his thin chest. The smell of cooking meat filled the air as he wiped down the counter. He brushed his hands lightly down the front of his garment, the fabric crinkling under his fingers. He’d gone the whole nine yards today, but he was still nervous.

What would he think? Steve swallowed and took a deep hit on his inhaler, trying to slow his breathing. This had been his choice. Sure, they’d talked about it before, but it didn’t stop the old prejudices from rising to the forefront of his mind.

He glanced at his watch, a delicate gold piece fastened so the face rested against the inside of his wrist.

Almost time. The roast was done, he pulled it from the oven and set it aside to rest. The table was set and the bar was ready, and Steve double checked everything. He’d spent the whole day preparing.

Keys in the lock made his heart race. The door opened silently, the hinges oiled, and Phil stepped inside the apartment. He took a deep breath, and Steve loved how his shoulders relaxed once he was in their home.

Phil’s gaze traveled to Steve and he stopped in mid-motion, his jacket in his hands.

“Wow,” Phil said. Steve could feel the heat rising to the fore, the blush spreading from his belly all the way up to his neck. Steve’s thin frame was draped in a day frock, the bright floral pattern something flattering to his pale complexion, a blue field of flowers that cascaded down to the hem that stopped just above his calves. The stockings he wore could have been woven in his own time, sleek nylon with the Cuban heels peeking out from his sensible Mary-janes.

Phil swallowed visibly, then seemed to remember his motion, hanging his coat up. He tugged off his suit jacket, hanging it over the back of the chair at the breakfast bar.

His eyes kept returning to Steve, a hungry light in the blue-grey depths.

“Is…is it okay?” Steve asked.

“You look lovely,” Phil replied, stepping close and kissing his cheek. “You do all this yourself?”

Steve nodded, shy. Ever since he’d told Phil about this, he’d been afraid Phil would reject the idea. His own reluctance had been a factor, too. He’d waited until he found the exact frock he wanted, then everything else had sort of fallen into place.

It was strange, but in a way, it made Steve feel closer to home than anything else. A fugitive from his own time, Phil had rescued him while attempting to stop a plot to kill Captain America.

Steve Rogers.

He looked down at his hands with the careful manicure, the nails a pretty red to match his lips. He didn’t feel like Steve Rogers. Not like he was supposed to be. He saw pictures of the Other Guy all the time, tall and strapping and blonde, and he felt useless in his own body. Even his own, future self got a better racket than he did.

Phil didn’t think so, though. He’d taken Steve in, offering him the spare room in his apartment when he discovered Steve was living in a roach motel in Jersey – and wow, he’d been angry. He’d kicked down the door and carried Steve’s stuff right off, along with Steve.

Phil had been concerned with his safety. The closer they got, the more Steve liked him. Phil was kind and solicitous, not attempting to push anything other than the apartment and a job at Steve. SHIELD would have placed him, but…

Steve didn’t like accepting help. It was a problem of his.

“You all right?” Phil asked, placing his fingertips under Steve’s jaw. Steve came back to himself, realizing he’d been wool-gathering.

“I just – are you sure?” he asked. “I can…I can change—“

“You’re beautiful,” Phil reassured him. “If you don’t want to do this anymore, please just say so. You can go and get changed, and we’ll never talk about it again.”

Steve swallowed. He didn’t want that. What he wanted, he knew, was Phil to keep looking at him like that. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“I just…it still feels strange.” He nibbled his lip, tasting the lipstick he’d applied and that made him stop. He felt like a car whose motor was about to go, moving in jerky fits and starts.

“Come on,” Phil said, taking his hand. “Nothing’s in the oven that will burn, right?”

Steve shook his head. “I pulled the pie out hours ago.”

“All right then,” Phil said softly. “Come here.”

He led Steve over to his arm chair, where Phil tended to relax the day away when he came home from his duties. Steve had taken to sitting in it during the day, before he got home. It was comforting.

Phil sat first, then patted his thighs. Steve sank onto his lap, and Phil gathered him into his arms.

“How are you feeling?” Phil asked, one warm, trigger callused hand on his calf. Steve swallowed, relishing the feel of the stockings.

“I feel…weird,” he admitted. “I’ve never actually done this before, and—“

He stopped, trying to sort through the jumble that was his head. It took Phil’s hand stroking the soft nylon against his calf and a couple long minutes of thinking before he could start again.

“I feel like a joke,” he said softly, hanging his head. “Who would even think I was a dame in this get-up?”

“Do they have to?” Phil asked. Steve looked up at him. Phil’s expression was gentle, patient.

“Well, yeah, otherwise I’m just a dud in women’s clothes,” he said, his tone morose.

“Not really,” Phil said. “They’re your clothes. So you get to wear them. That’s the beauty of it. No one can tell you to take them off, not if you don’t want to.”

Steve stared at him for just a minute. There wasn’t any mockery in Phil’s voice. It was sincere and rational, and it calmed Steve’s nerves considerably. He covered Phil’s hand with his own, feeling better, at least a little.

“And if it helps, I don’t think you look ridiculous,” Phil continued. “I think you look amazing, and coming home to this was a real treat.”

“Quit foolin’,” Steve grumbled, his dimples appearing as he couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll never understand what you see in a dud like me.”

“I see the man who got displaced from his time stream, who took it on the chin and rolled with the punches. He’s too stubborn to ask for what he wants sometimes, or accept help, but I wouldn’t change him for the world,” Phil said. He leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to Steve’s cheek. His eyes were warm and kind, and Steve cupped his face.

He’d gotten lucky, he had. He knew it, right down to his bones.

“I should get you a cocktail,” Steve said softly. “Can’t end the day without one.”

There was a fragile line between fantasy and reality, but Steve, well, he’d lived in his head so much as a child he could change gears easily enough.

Phil nodded. “I think I’d like that.”

Steve rose smoothly, leaning over and planting a kiss on Phil’s forehead. He headed for the bar.

Boxcars were easy. He’d learned to make them before, and he did them with practiced ease. Sour mix, triple sec, ice and into the mixer. He shook them for a couple of seconds then rubbed a couple of martini glasses along the rim with a lemon wedge, before dipping the rims in sugar. He poured out the mixture into the glasses and brought them both back to where Phil was sitting. He could feel his eyes on him every step of the way, and he made sure his steps were smooth and confident.

He handed one of the glasses to Phil, then took a seat right on Phil’s lap. Phil wrapped an arm around him.

“Tell me about your day?” Steve asked.

“Well,” Phil said, taking a sip of the proffered drink. “I ended up coming in under budget on the last away mission, so now finance wants to slash my budget all the time.”

Phil chuckled, a noise that had less to do with humor and more to do with knowing himself.

“I told them I once destroyed a satellite to achieve an objective and they reconsidered.”

“Sounds like a day,” Steve said, leaning in to rub his nose against Phil’s jaw. Steve smelled of powder and a light floral scent, something he dabbed behind his ears and against his wrists and throat right before Phil had gotten home.

He could feel the shirr of the silk against his bare skin while he moved. He was relishing in the sensation. It was so different than the rough fabrics he’d been used to in the thirties. Even the flannel he got these days felt different.

Phil hummed, a soft noise right beside Steve’s ear.

“You look a million miles away,” he said.

“It all feels different,” Steve said. “Silk is…I like the way it feels. I like…all of it. Everything feels nicer than it did back then. Fabric was coarse.”

Phil nodded, tracing a hand up Steve’s leg again. Steve shivered, his attention drawn to the fingers traveling up his calves.

“Do you like it?” Phil asked softly.

“I…yeah,” Steve said. Phil hummed, chuckling.

“Then that’s all that matters,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

“Not just yet,” Steve replied. “Are you?”

“Had a late lunch today.” Phil kept tracing his leg, skirting the hem of the dress but inching closer. Steve shivered.

Phil’s hands were warm, and when they finally traveled up the backs of his thighs, Steve shuddered. It was so sensitive, his skin back there. He’d never really been touched like this until he and Phil…

Phil’s lips brushed his neck, and Steve whined softly. Phil knew all his buttons by now, but there was something about having him to it while he was like this that added an extra bite of excitement to things.

“You know, when you told me about this,” Phil said, his fingers still tracing lazy patterns against Steve’s thighs. He brushed the little straps that kept his stockings in place, and Steve whimpered. “I hadn’t really thought about it. But you…you look really good like this. It suits you.”

Steve was helpless against the torrent of sensation. Silk and nylon along with the swish of fabric, and he’d already been on sensory overload from the get-go. He’d opted to wear everything from the start today, to surprise Phil.

“Y-you do?” he managed to get out. Phil kissed his neck again, nipping gently, and Steve groaned, his eyes sliding shut.

“I do,” Phil said. “You look lovely, and I love holding you.”

“Q-quit foolin’.”

“I’m not,” Phil said, rubbing his thumb against one of Steve’s garters. “I love making you happy.”

Steve turned in Phil’s arms and pressed his lips firmly against his. Phil opened easily, letting Steve explore and tease, his hands continuing their lazy exploration. Steve sucked Phil’s tongue, squirming in his lap.

Phil had a smudge of lipstick marring his mouth as they parted.

“You want to –“ Phil hesitated, because this was Steve’s fantasy, not his, although he was an enthusiastic participant.

“Yes,” Steve said without hesitation. “Take me to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Phil said, scooping Steve up in his arms and lifting him easily. Steve wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck, his fingers in his hair. Phil’s arms were always where Steve felt safest during these little adventures.

Phil nudged the door to the master bedroom open with his foot, and set Steve gently on his feet beside the bed. Phil went to his knees before him, taking Steve’s heels off.

As he lifted each leg, he placed a kiss to the nylon on the inside of Steve’s knee. Steve shivered.

Steve turned when Phil motioned him to, and Phil tugged the belt around his waist loose. It hugged his waist to make his whole shape narrower, and as the garment billowed out, Phil found the zipper and pulled gently.

Steve shifted the dress down his arms. His skin was overheated, and he could feel the goosebumps rise on his skin.

Phil traced them, making him lean back into his arms.

“Beautiful,” he murmured again, and Steve felt the flush happen again. Phil always knew how to make him red as a beet. Steve stepped out of the dress, and Phil picked it up, laying it across the chair in the corner. No sense in wrinkling it, after all.

Phil’s lips were warm against Steve’s own. He gathered him into his arms, and Steve pressed against Phil’s crisp dress shirt. He fiddled with the tie, and Phil’s chuckle vibrated his chest.

Phil’s hands wandered lower, cupping Steve’s chest through the silk of the little bra he wore. Steve gasped, the fabric shifting across his nipples making them bead up almost immediately. Phil chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Steve between his knees.

He dropped his mouth to Steve’s chest and Steve couldn’t tell if he wanted to move forward or backward as Phil closed his mouth around one of his nipples through the fabric of his bra.

He moaned, and Phil sucked harder, his hands on Steve’s rear and kneading him. Steve put his hands on Phil’s shoulders, using him to keep himself upright.

Phil pulled away, smiling up at him. “Feeling better about this?” he asked.

“Much,” Steve replied weakly. “I want—“

He stopped, then took a deep breath and started again. “Bend me over the bed and make me yours.”

Phil’s brows shot up. For Steve, that was damn near an order, and Phil hurried to comply. He ran his hands over Steve’s front, tracing the girdle he wore, down to the silken panties that encased his hips and butt. Steve gasped when Phil traced the outline of his cock. He was already hard and aching, a wet spot appearing in the front.

Phil shifted, moving for the drawer where they kept their supplies.

“I want you to go face down on the bed,” he said softly. “Don’t move, all right?”

Steve nodded and did what he told him, stretching out against the bed, so that his hips just met the edge. He reached in front of him, grabbing the edge of the bed.

Phil traced the shape of his butt through his panties, and Steve squirmed. The motion made him rub against the bed, the arousal that shot through him shocking a moan from his mouth.

“Feel good?” he asked softly. Steve nodded, biting his lip.

Phil shifted down Steve’s panties, spreading his cheeks. It was gentle, Phil tracing his skin.

The difference was staggering, the dichotomy of the panties against his front and the bareness of the back making him want to squirm more.

There was the sound of shuffling, and then the feeling of lube tracing his skin. Steve bit his lip.

“You know,” Phil said softly, continuing to trace Steve’s skin in circles, applying lube. “I never thought I’d relish the thought of calling you my little dame.”

A bolt of lust shot through Steve, Phil’s words punctuated with the first of his fingers sliding deep inside him. Steve moaned, his fingers tightening into the blanket. Phil thrust, reaching for the spot inside him that made Steve’s toes curl.

“Seeing you in that dress made me realize how beautiful you are,” Phil continued. He made a crooking motion with his fingers and Steve arched forward, rubbing himself against the mattress. Phil pulled back, adding more lube and a second finger.

“You look so good right now, too,” Phil said. His fingers were stretching and scissoring, making Steve feel…almost too empty. He wanted something better than fingers, and he knew he had to be patient.

Phil would never leave him hanging like that. He just wanted Steve to be comfortable.

He squirmed when Phil pulled his fingers free. Phil took his time, knowing that Steve was impatient at best when it came to these things. Steve almost lifted his head to see if Phil was all right until he heard the zipper. Steve almost gasped at the feel of Phil behind him. He could feel the press of Phil’s cock against him, and he moaned.

Phil had forgone the condom this time. There wasn’t any real worry of disease – he and Phil had gotten checked long before, and made it a point to do regular checkups. They’d been fluid bonded for a while now. The connotation, however, was enough to make Steve arch his back for Phil. A palm rested on the small of his back as Phil guided himself slowly into Steve.

Steve bit his lips, knowing that his makeup had to be a mess by now. The thought came out of nowhere, and it was gone just as fast when Phil bottomed out.

Steve felt full and satisfied, squeezing around Phil. There was a quiet groan from behind him that sent shivers up his spine.

It never failed to thrill him when he realized Phil was just as turned on as he was.

Phil pulled back, the slide of their bodies something out of a dream as Steve gasped, holding onto the bed. Phil gave a sharp snap of his hips and Steve saw stars. He whined and pressed back against him. Phil started a slow rhythm, something that made Steve feel the heat of arousal gather in his stomach.

He’d never thought it could feel this way. Phil had always felt good to him, his hands and lips as well as what he was doing now.

Phil groaned softly over him, and Steve relished in the sound.

“Do I feel good, Daddy?” he asked. The sharp intake of breath and the stutter of Phil’s hips answered that question. It had been a slip, the first time, the nickname something from Steve’s time, to denote that Phil was his boyfriend. The slang had long since changed, but Phil had been adamant that Steve keep doing it.

Phil pressed into him, as deep as he could go, and Steve arched back to meet him.

“That’s my little dame,” Phil said, and Steve moaned as Phil began to pick up the pace. He fell into a haze of arousal, Phil’s rhythm building up to fast, short thrusts that left Steve reeling. He felt Phil’s hand slide down his thighs and around, caressing him through the panties, and his whole world wobbled. It felt so good, better than he’d even fantasized.

Phil stroked him in time with his thrusts, and Steve didn’t know whether he was arching forward or back anymore. He whined, then squeezed around Phil’s cock.

“It’s okay to let go,” Phil said. “It’s okay to want things.”

He was breathless. Steve glanced behind him. Phil was still fully clothed, and the idea that he hadn’t been able to wait made something snap in Steve.

“Harder,” he gasped. Phil obliged, snapping his hips and sending Steve reeling. He rocked his hips into Phil’s hand, arching with each thrust.

It didn’t take long at all. The sensation along with the pace made the warmth building up in his belly cascade outward. He cried out, a thin, wordless keen and buried his face in the comforter as he spilled into the silk of his panties.

He clenched around Phil, who groaned, his hips jerking as he came. Warmth flooded Steve from behind, and he squeezed around Phil to keep the sensation as long as possible.

Phil bent over him, kissing his shoulder and neck.

“Feel better?” he asked softly in Steve’s ear. Steve nodded, still unable to see much of anything but a blur for a little while.

After a long moment, Phil’s weight against him moved, and the full feeling went away as he pulled out. Steve whined, but he wasn’t really in a position to chase him down.

The water in the bathroom ran for a moment, and then Phil returned. A warm wet rag pressed against his flank, and Steve shivered.

Phil cleaned him up, helping him out of the rest of his clothing. He even unrolled the stockings so Steve wouldn’t get any runs. When he was done, he fetched some of Steve’s flannel pajamas, dressing him as Steve relished in the feeling of being loved and cared for.

Phil sat on the edge of the bed, cupping Steve’s face.

“It’s okay to want things,” he said again. “Don’t be afraid to ask for them, okay?”

Steve nodded, feeling lax and sleepy. It was a delicious feeling. Phil took the packet of makeup remover wipes and opened them, passing it over Steve’s face. It was damp, but it would get all the makeup off, and keep it from getting on the pillows or the comforter.

“Anytime you feel like being my little dame,” Phil said, leaning in to nuzzle Steve’s cheek. “You tell me.”

“…we forgot the roast,” Steve realized, his voice still sleepy.

“Nothing like cold roast on sandwiches later,” Phil said. “You want to sleep?”

“Mhm,” Steve said. He reached for Phil. “You gonna sleep with me?”

“Always,” Phil said. He undressed, his clothes in the hamper where they should be, and slid into bed right beside Steve. Steve immediately squirmed over, putting his head against Phil’s chest.

“I love you,” he murmured, his eyelids heavy. He didn’t hear Phil’s reply. He was already asleep, cradled and warm and wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short and porny little something.
> 
> This was a commission on tumblr, and I let it rest with them for just a little while before I posted it -- with permission, of course. This is based on an RP we've been developing for a while now, one where a pre-serum Steve is dumped right into modern Manhattan, and struggles to survive in the future. Phil finds him living in a dive motel, puts his foot down, and moves Steve in with him...at least until Steve ends up finding his own place. Of course, Steve never really gets around to it...
> 
> Like my writing? You can leave a tip! http://ko-fi.com/A8001B6
> 
> Want to Commission me? You can help pay for my trip to Boston so Scrivenbear and I can move in together. You can do that by either donating, or commissioning, and getting a fic like this one! See this post for details: http://lywinis.tumblr.com/post/143855428640/saving-up-for-a-car


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